


a pair of mollies

by poisonrationalitie



Series: Harry Potter Expanded Universe [25]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family Bonding, Gen, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Minor Audrey Weasley, Minor Percy Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 05:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20576933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonrationalitie/pseuds/poisonrationalitie
Summary: Molly won't let circumstance get in the way of being a loving grandmother. /Written for the September Writing Club, Amber's Attic, 26. Molly Weasley I and Molly Weasley II. X-posted from fanfiction.net





	a pair of mollies

**December 2006**

Molly had never been nervous about babysitting one of her grandchildren before. She’d raised seven children and, up until three months ago, had been a Nanna to six. Albus had been a natural addition, with Molly having been there for every step of the way through her daughter’s second pregnancy.

Little Molly and Lucy, however, had come right out of the blue alongside Audrey. Percy was the last of all her children she would’ve expected to have had one child, let alone two, pop up that he hadn’t known about. Then again, she had never expected Percy to become as ill as he had. Nevertheless, what was done was done, and now it seemed Audrey and the girls were part of the family. 

Audrey seemed hesitant around her. It was understandable, she supposed; Audrey had raised the girls on her own until now. Percy was still living at the Burrow, and so visits to him were also visits to Molly and Arthur, who in truth, did most of the playing. But today it was just Little Molly, no Audrey and no Lucy. They were going to see how she went on her own, without her mother there to run to. 

Molly had worked on setting up the living room to be as child-friendly as possible. It was already entirely baby-proofed, but she’d selected a few appropriate toys and strewn them around. Little Molly liked books and playing pretend. Years of collecting toys meant that Molly was rarely ill-prepared for any child’s interest. Logically, she knew she had everything. The little girl’s favourite foods and drinks were in the icebox, and changes of clothes in her size were on hand if needed. Emotionally, she felt a little sick. If this went badly, Audrey could decide this wasn’t right. That she wanted to raise the girls on her own again. 

The fire roared and turned green, and Molly turned around, smoothing out her dress. Audrey appeared in the fireplace and stepped out of the flames, holding Lucy close to her chest, and Little Molly’s hand. 

“Where’s Percy?” she asked, lips pursed. 

“He should be down here in a moment. He’s getting dressed.” Molly turned and called for him over her shoulder, and then turned her attention back to her granddaughter. She crouched down, ignoring the slight  _ crunch  _ of her knees. Little Molly had a head of red curls, groomed as neatly as possible and secured with a green clip.

“Hello Molly,” Molly said. “Nanna is very happy to see you!” In the moment of silence, her heart skipped a beat.

“Hi,” Little Molly said, and then looked up at her mother. Audrey seemed to survey the place, and Molly straightened up slowly. 

“Thank you for bringing her over, Audrey. We all really appreciate it,” said Molly. “Would you like to stay for a cup of tea? And I’ve made some biscuits.”

“No. Thank you, Mrs. Weasley,” Audrey said, inhaling sharply and kneeling. “Be a good girl for your Nanna, Molly. I’ll see you.” Audrey kissed her elder daughter’s forehead, and then stood up quickly, grabbing a fistful of floo powder. Little Molly watched her. “I’d best get going. Floo if you need anything. I’ll be back at four. She goes down for a nap at quarter past one.” Molly nodded approvingly.

“Yes, yes, of course. Alright then. Have a good day, dear.” Audrey had already entered the fireplace and was spinning home.

“Mama,” Little Molly whined, running to the fireplace. Molly’s heart skipped a beat. She grabbed Little Molly’s hand quickly, wrenching her back from the flames.

“You can’t go in there, Molly,” Molly told her granddaughter. “Only when the flames are green.”

“I want Mama.” Little Molly tried to pull her hand away. She didn’t succeed, and let out a sharp cry. “I want Mama!”

“Why don’t we read a book?” Molly suggested. “I know one little Cassie Crup who would just  _ love  _ to be read.” That caught Little Molly’s attention. She blinked up at her grandmother, and Molly’s heart swelled. She really did resemble her father. She could so easily see Percy at that age.

“Cassie Crup,” Little Molly repeated. Molly let go of her, and she toddled off to look around the room. She checked two books before finding the one she was after. It was an old book that had been one of Charlie’s favourites, and was stained with pumpkin juice. Little Molly had taken a liking to it after rummaging through an old book box, and since then, it had become a staple of their trips. “Got it!” she announced proudly, holding it up as high as she could. 

“There’s a clever girl,” Molly cooed. She sat down in her armchair and pulled a knitted blanket over herself. Little Molly bounded towards her, still holding her treasure, and clambered onto her lap. “What do you want to read?”

“Cassie Crup!” Little Molly said, shoving the book towards Molly’s face. Usually, Audrey would be bouncing Lucy in her lap, keeping a close watch. But now Molly was trusted, maybe, accepted as a caretaker of her child. She wrapped one arm around Little Molly’s middle, and opened the book with her other hand, so that each of them held a corner. Molly began to read, with Little Molly occasionally joining in to repeat a short sentence, or to make the sounds of one of Cassie’s friends.

It was grey outside, and after reading Cassie Crup four times, Little Molly wriggled over her lap and onto the floor. With sore knees and hips, Molly got herself onto the floor and helped her to put the pegs through the correct holes. After Little Molly sorted all the blocks, Molly pulled out her wand and murmured a spell. The blocks levitated above them both, spinning around in circles. Little Molly jumped to her feat and reached up as high as she could, trying to catch them. “Nearly there!” Molly encouraged, smiling broadly. 

Percy joined them for lunch, and they all ate Little Molly’s favourite sandwiches, cut into triangles. She was still getting used to the idea of Percy as a father. His arms were stick-thin and bent at awkward angles, his face gaunt. But he had shaved, at least, and his hair had been washed in the past week. 

“She’s got a spot on her arm,” Percy frowned, putting down his sandwich. “Is that normal, Mum?”

“I should expect so,” Molly said, trying not to laugh. “Or else we best be getting you and your siblings off to St. Mungo’s for a bad case of the freckles. She’s a Weasley.” As soon as she said it, she wanted to kick herself. Percy’s face froze, and his eyes dropped. Technically, Molly was for all intents and purposes, a Baumgartner like her mother. Audrey seemed hesitant to change the name when Percy was yet to fully step up to fatherhood. 

“Samwitch!” Little Molly said. “I eated it all.”

“Ate it all,” Percy corrected, not unkindly. “You did eat it all.”

“You’re a growing girl,” Molly said, scooping up the empty plate. “Your mama will be very happy you ate it all. You’re gonna be so big and strong, aren’t you?” She put the plate in the sink and ran the taps.

Percy returned to his bedroom soon after, and Molly took Little Molly out to see the chickens. Little Molly’s jumper would have to wait until her birthday in just a week, but Molly was itching to see her in it. Little Molly held the chicken wire tightly, peering through at the birds. “Do you remember their names?” Molly asked her granddaughter.

“Mab,” said Little Molly, pointing to the large red chicken. “Puck,” she correctly named the smaller white one. “Obron,” she jabbed a finger at the large grey one. 

“Yes, that’s Oberon,” Molly encouraged, her face glowing with pride. The older children had always loved the chickens, and took turns in feeding them whenever they visited. At first, Little Molly had been frightened of them, but as time went on, she seemed to become curiouser and curiouser. “Do you remember the spotty one’s name?”

Little Molly screwed up her face, thinking hard, and then leaned forward, pressing her face against the chicken wire. “Uhh,” she said, pouting, and then she looked up at Molly wonderingly.

“That one’s got a big name. Nimphidia.”

“Nim….duh.”

“Nim-fid-ee-uh.”

“Nimfada.”

“You’re such a quick learner!” The little girl beamed, and reached out her arms for a hug. It was the first time she had ever done so, and Molly’s eyes flooded with tears. She bent down and squeezed the girl tightly. Little Molly buried her head into her grandmother’s shoulder. 

“Why are you crying?” Little Molly asked. “Was I bad?”

“No, no. I’m just being silly,” Molly said, wiping her eyes. “You’re a good girl, Molly.” Little Molly looked around, and pulled away, cheeks red. Molly’s stomach twisted. Had she said something wrong? 

“Nanna,” Little Molly said, staring at her boots.

“Yes, Molly? What is it, darling?”

“I…” Little Molly looked up at her, and then threw her arms out for another hug. Molly obliged. “I love you. Love you, Nanna.”

She still remembered the first time all of her children had told her that, and the first time each of her grandchildren had said it. It was all she could do not to cry. “I love you too, darling. I love you, Molly. I love you.”


End file.
